


Under Control

by themonsterswin



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cop AU, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themonsterswin/pseuds/themonsterswin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chuck Hansen finds out his father's teaming up with the PPDC for an international operation aiming to take down the Otachi family and the Kaiju Blue drug they've been distributing, he wastes no time in doing what his dad taught him. Something stupid. Something stupid that lands him undercover with the family responsible for his mother's death, putting him in a position that Stacker Pentecost begrudgingly has to admit is useful to the operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rough Start

He wasn’t supposed to be there.

His hoodie pulled up over his head, hands dug deep into his pockets, the weight of his gun heavy against his hip and he missed the familiar weight of his badge on the other side of his belt, the lack of the counter weight making him feel off balance.

This mission wasn’t sanctioned and he was well aware of that. He wasn’t supposed to be here; he was supposed to be back at the precinct, helping Mako fill out the files of the cases they’d worked last week, but Chuck found a lead and he needed to run with it.

His father hadn’t told him much about the PPDC joint OP, only barely brushed by the basics of it all, but Chuck had managed to pull enough information out of the old man to know what it was all about.

Maybe it was because it was personal, maybe that was why Herc Hansen had spilled the intel so willingly. Maybe it was because the people they were after were the ones that had taken his son and wife not nine years ago, maybe that was why the emotion had spilled into his voice so easily.

It didn’t take a mastermind to know that this hit home for the man and though Chuck might argue that he was nothing short of a mastermind, it wasn’t relevant right now. 

What mattered was the drug of which his father had dropped the name, the Kaiju Blue drug, the same drug that the men that had taken Chuck and his mother Angela all those years ago had been working on developing and everyone thought they had put an end to that operation.

Apparently, they’d been wrong. 

Sticking to the shadows, Chuck moved along the alleyway carefully, making sure to stay on guard as he turned corners and walked down seemingly dead end streets and he was glad that his three years of experience on the Hong Kong PD was paying off right now. In more ways than one.

He got to where he wanted to be sooner than later, pulling a hand from his pocket and raising it up to knock on the door, twice, thrice, four times, sticking to a familiar pattern and there was a silence on the other end of the door before someone pulled it open.

“Hansen,” came a hushed voice, a surprised tone to the voice and Chuck had to step in, put his foot between the door and the doorpost to prevent the other man from slamming the door shut right in his face. He wasn’t very welcome here and he knew that, but whether or not the man liked it or not, he owed Chuck a favor. 

One that Chuck was planning on cashing in.

“You deliver for the Otachi family, right?”

Chuck Hansen had never been someone who beat around the bush, and he wasn’t starting now. He needed an in with the Otachi family, the family that was behind manufacturing the drug and distributing it, and the man in front of him was how he was going to get in.

“Yes, but --”

“You need to get me in. No questions asked. You owe me a favor, I’m cashing in.”

The other man moved closer, opened his mouth to object, but Chuck cut him off.

“If you so much as think of ratting me out, you will regret it, understand? You will introduce me under an alias and then you will back off. You know what this stuff does. You’ll tell ‘em you’re backing out of distributing, but that you’ll give ‘em me instead,” Chuck rattled off, stepping right up close to the man, meeting and holding his gaze and he really needed this to work. 

The man nodded, seemingly unsure what to say next, though Chuck couldn’t help but notice that there was a certain relief in his voice when he spoke to confirm that he understood. Seemed that even other criminals were a little wary of the family that dealt in Kaiju Blue.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chuck Hansen didn’t do well with being yelled at. Not even with it was Stacker Pentecost doing the yelling, especially not when it was his father Herc doing the yelling and on this occasion, he’d somehow managed to piss the both of them off.

He wasn’t entirely sure why because in his mind, he’d done a good thing; he’d found a way in on the dangerous criminal organisation they were planning on taking down and so what if Chuck wasn’t supposed to be privy to that information in the first place? 

That one was on Herc, not Chuck.

“Look, I found a way in, I took it, that’s all that matters. You don’t have anyone in the inside, not here in Hong Kong and it’s a perfect opportunity!,” Chuck argued, resisting the urge to get up from his seat, because he felt trapped by having to stay put and would feel much more at ease if he had the freedom to pace around.

Herc knew this, which was exactly why he’d told his son to sit down.

Another rant about it being dangerous and stupid and Chuck honestly couldn’t roll his eyes any more than he was already and he knew it was pissing Stacker off, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was even a small part of him that took some pleasure in it; pissing off Stacker Pentecost was quite a feat after all.

Ten minutes of yelling later Chuck asked to be excused, pushing himself up from his chair and though he was still of the opinion that his actions had been justified and smart, the two older man had gotten under his skin anyway. 

Which was exactly why he slammed the door on his way out, spinning on his feet, ready to stomp his way towards the exit but he didn’t exactly make it that far.

“What the hell mate, look where you’re goin’!,” Chuck exclaimed, voice tight and raised as he addressed the man he’d just collided with, face set in a glare as he took in the other man’s appearance. Slicked back hair, beard, tattoos popping out from under his collar and the edge of his sleeves, bags under his eyes and an expression that said he was both tired and irritated at the same time. 

Chuck didn’t care.

“Who the hell are you?”

It was only then that Chuck noticed the man wasn’t on his own; there was another person behind him, the resemblance between the two too big to be a coincidence, even though the latter looked cleanshaven and generally speaking a lot more awake.

Chuck’s attention was drawn back to beard-and-tattoos when the man cleared his throat, pulling out an ID. “FBI, problem?”

Glancing from the ID back to the man and then over at what Chuck assumed was his brother, he then reached up, grasping the ID from the other man’s grip and pulling it closer. He’d seen a lot of fake IDs over the years - each one more impressive than the other - so he’d taught himself how to spot the real thing from the fake ones.

This one, sadly, was more than a little real.

“Becket,” Chuck read out loud, brushing his thumb across the badge as he read the info on the ID itself. There was something about the name as well as the picture that seemed more than a little familiar to Chuck, but he wasn’t quite sure why that was. Maybe they’d met before or, and this was more likely, this guy had worked a case with Chuck’s father in the past. Chuck made a hobby out of looking over his dad’s case files; he always enjoyed reading through everything except who they thought was the one who did it and then trying to come to the same conclusion as the case officers did. 

Chuck had strange hobbies. 

“Goddamn, we’re bringing in the Yanks now?” He was moreso thinking out loud than actually asking someone, though if the door leading to Pentecost’s office had been open instead of closer he might’ve spoken a little louder. 

The only reason Chuck resented them bringing in the ‘Yanks’ was because apparently, these people were qualified when Chuck had to go out and make himself matter before he got asked to join the OP. Maybe he was a little resentful already. Maybe Chuck Hansen jumped to conclusions a lot.

“You’re one to talk, skippy,” Becket said, and apparently the sour look on his face was a reflection of the mood the man was in. Chuck couldn’t help but smirk, feeling strangely accomplished that a comment as innocent as calling them ‘yanks’ could get under the man’s skin.

He cleared his throat.

“There’s no problem at all, in fact, we’ve got everything under control,” he made sure to point out, handing the badge back to Agent Becket, a slight scowl on his face because really, it just wasn’t fair, was it? 

“Why would there be a problem?,” he then asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stepped back a little, meeting Becket’s gaze, a challenging look in his eyes, but the other man took the challenge as his cue, stepping forward, effectively drawing Chuck’s attention away from one brother and to the other.

“Seventeen hour flight, you’ll have to forgive my brother here.”

Chuck did the maths in his mind, trying to figure out where they could’ve possibly flown in from, but Hong Kong wasn’t exactly around the corner from a lot of places. Seeing as they were, as Chuck called them, ‘yanks’ though, he felt it was safe to assume they’d flown in from the US.

“I suppose I can cut him a break. Can’t begin to imagine how upsetting it must be to miss your beauty sleep,” Chuck sneered, not even an ounce of compassion in his voice because really, what the hell did he care that darling Becket here just had to go through a long ass flight? Chuck had gone through more of those than he could count on both hands and he was always fine afterwards.

“Yancy Becket. Guess you know my brother by now.” 

Chuck hadn’t been expecting an introduction, not really anyway, but he managed a small smile anyway, extending his hand towards Yancy, grip firm as he shook the other man’s hand.

“Chuck Hansen. I think we might’ve met before actually,” he stated, because now that the fact that these two were brothers had fully clicked in his mind, his memory seemed to kick in again as well. The Becket brothers meant more to him than just the name of Raleigh Becket; he was pretty sure that they’d worked a case with his dad and some point and -- 

“Wait, you were the scrawny little thing Herc had to pick up from school?,” Raleigh interjected, interrupting Chuck’s train of thought and he couldn’t help but turn and glare at the older man, crossing his arms again after having let go of Yancy’s hand. 

Chuck Hansen didn’t take kindly to being referred to as a scrawny little thing and really, he barely remembered having actually met these two, how was it that Raleigh’s mind went ‘scrawny little kid’ when he heard Chuck’s name?

“Nothing scrawny about me anymore, Becket,” Chuck snapped, resisting the urge to step forward, prod the other man in the chest. He’d gotten in enough trouble today; causing a scene right outside of Pentecost’s office really wasn’t the best of ideas right now.

He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

“They’re waiting for you in there. Briefing’s later today, 1600 hours.” Chuck couldn’t help but smirk slightly. The way Raleigh looked, the fact that Yancy mentioned a seventeen hour plane ride; he was pretty sure the Becket brothers would want some sleep. They wouldn’t be getting a whole lot if the briefing was at 1600 though and for some reason that pleased Chuck.

“Oh that’s just fu --”

“Perfect. It’s perfect. We’ll see you there.”


	2. Welcome Home

For all the laughing Chuck had done at Raleigh for being tired after his seventeen hour flight, he was pretty damned tired himself. 

He’d headed straight home to the apartment he shared with his dad - and sometimes others as well - after getting yelled at by Pentecost and his father himself, had taken a shower and then he’d wasted no time with crawling into bed. 

Though he’d made the whole thing sound easy; getting himself undercover like he had, it hadn’t been all that easy. In fact it had been a couple of days’ worth of work at least and he’d worked his ass off to make it all happen and the fact that he got nothing in return but harsh words and looks of disappointment didn’t sit well with him.

He’d done good. In fact, he’d done great; he’d created an opening in a case that they needed an opening with and he’d exploited it and got himself in and there wasn’t even the tiniest sliver of gratitude from the others. It pissed Chuck off. 

Which was also why he wanted to sleep. He’d been on edge this whole time, when he was working on going undercover as well as when he was being yelled at - which was after he’d told Pentecost and his dad about what he’d done, which had been plenty stressful on its own - and he was a little done with it all. 

Besides, if Pentecost did decide to run with the cover that Chuck had created, he’d be going undercover very soon and that might mean living in a shitty apartment and having to deal with bad circumstances so he’d be damned if he didn’t take advantage of the nice hot shower and the large, warm bed he had here. 

It was two hours after Chuck had crawled into bed that he was awoken again - rudely at that and he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, pushing the sheets away from his body before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

No one was supposed to be home yet.

Chuck mentally went through a list of everyone who it could be; his father was still at work, so was Pentecost, as far as Chuck knew Mako was as well and outside of them Tendo was the only other person who had a key. Tendo who was also at work, which meant that either someone else had the key and no one told Chuck, or someone was trying to break in.

Either way, whoever was in the house, was shit out luck, because Chuck was tired and cranky and - after digging his gun from out of the bedside table - very much armed. 

Not bothering to slip on clothes, Chuck checked the gun for ammo, then took the safety off and headed towards the hallway. Turning left and right before moving into it, he pushed forwards towards the living room, hearing noises coming from there.

“Who the hell’s in here? Show yourself!,” he called out, gun held high as he stepped into the living room, instantly spotting the intruder and rushing closer. 

It wasn’t until the man turned around that Chuck realised it was none other than Raleigh Becket. He should’ve recognised the hair and the beard really. Raleigh had pulled out his own gun, aiming it at Chuck but when the other man recognised him he instantly lowered the fire arm. 

“Fuck’s sake Becket,” Chuck breathed, shaking his head. He took a few more seconds before he lowered his gun as well, even though their earlier meeting made him not entirely opposed to the idea of shooting the guy. 

That and the fact that he’d ruined his plans of sleeping til the briefing.

Asshole.

“Well, this is perfect,” Raleigh complained and Chuck couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. What had he done to deserve this? Honestly, all he’d wanted was some shut eye and then this guy had to come in and give him half a heart attack and really. This was fantastic.

“I was trying to get some sleep, could you maybe try to not stomp around like a goddamned elephant?,” Chuck grumbled, shooting the other man a pointed look, because really. As someone who’d just went through a seventeen hour flight and who probably needed sleep as well, the least Raleigh Becket could be was understanding. 

“Yeah okay, noted, Sleeping Beauty. Don’t let me keep you up.”

Chuck simply sighed at that.

“First off; fuck you. Second, it really doesn’t matter now cos I might as well stay up. No way I’m getting back to sleep now.”

He really wished he was one of those people who could sleep anytime and anywhere, but sadly, he wasn’t. It was one of his biggest regrets in life really.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Chuck took his gun, putting the safety back on as he stepped into his bedroom to put the firearm away, moving back into the living room then. Seeing as he probably wasn’t going to get any sleep anymore anyway, Chuck figured he might as well bother Raleigh; make sure the other man didn’t get any sleep either. Only fair, right? 

“So you always look like a murderous lunatic or was that part of your cover?”

The fact that Chuck was still in his boxers was completely lost on him; this was his apartment, his home and he could wear whatever he wanted in here and really. It wasn’t as if Becket seemed all that bothered. 

“You think the FBI hires guys that look like they got arrested for grand theft auto?,” Raleigh asked, an incredulous tone to his voice. He’d pulled off his shirt when Chuck had stepped into his bedroom to put his gun away, holding a small flash of alcohol and a piece of cloth in his hands. Chuck frowned for a moment, then connected the dots, realising the other man was planning on scrubbing off the fake tattoos they’d given him.

Chuck shrugged at the question, moving into the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine, reaching for filters and coffee as he waited for it to heat up. 

“I’m sure the FBI would say that they ‘don’t judge’ or something. Aren’t you supposed to be able to blend in everywhere or .. some shit?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the kitchen counter, watching Raleigh scrub at the ‘ink’ on his arms. 

“Being able to blend in means you don’t always look like you’ve spent the last fifteen years in jail.”

Chuck couldn’t help but laugh at that, raising an eyebrow as he pointedly leant a little closer to Raleigh, looking him over.

“You don’t look like you spent fifteen years in jail, mate. Five years, maybe. Tops.”

“Tell that to the eight times I got stopped by security.”

Chuck snorted, shaking his head.

“Maybe if you’d shaved, they wouldn’t have stopped you,” he pointed out, a light grin on his face. Raleigh cleared his throat then, gaze fixed upon his arm as he scrubbed to get the ink off.

“Anyway though, it’s definitely for a cover. Been working this one for three months now, Yancy for four. Put him in before me, because apparently I didn’t look the part.” Raleigh pulled a face at that, and Chuck couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Really? Your brother looks a whole lot less like a criminal than you do in this get up, how’d they figure he looks the part when you don’t?”

Really, compared to Raleigh, Yancy had looked more like a business man on holiday than he’d looked like a hardened criminal. Though Chuck supposed it was more about selling the part than it was about looking the part. Still though. If the FBI really thought that, then why’d they put so much effort in making Raleigh look like that?

“Yeah, you haven’t see him with his hands in a guy’s jacket as he threatens to take their balls of with a blunt knife,” Raleigh deadpanned, and Chuck nodded at that, because no. He hadn’t seen that. 

“Sounds like quite a sight,” he commented, watching as a wide grin appeared on Raleigh’s face.

“Ask him about Tucson, next time you see him.”

“I’ll do that.”

Chuck turned to the coffee machine then, just in time to see the light go from on to off, indicating that the machine had warmed up and he went through the movements on auto pilot. Coffee was seen as the nectar of the Gods in the Hansen household; Herc tended to work odd hours and tiresome cases and Chuck didn’t exactly keep a regular sleeping pattern either, so coffee was pretty much a large part of their diet. Unhealthy, yeah, probably, but neither of them cared much. 

“You want some?,” Chuck asked Raleigh as he turned away from the coffee machine, pointing at it though after asking his question, raising an eyebrow at the blond sitting at the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Raleigh said, somewhat absentmindedly as he seemed to be growing increasingly annoyed with the fake tattoos. They weren’t coming off quite as easily as they were supposed to and Chuck couldn’t help but be slightly amused by that.

“Bureau really into their details when it comes to these covers. Gotta look the part, y’know? It’s not even that bad; even helps sometimes. ‘least until you get pulled out and everyone thinks you’ve suffered a personality breakdown.”

For all the anger and resentment Chuck had felt towards Raleigh when he ran into him a few hours ago, he actually didn’t seem like that bad of a guy right now. Chuck wasn’t sure why he thought that, but then he supposed it didn’t matter much either. 

“Well for what it’s worth, despite the fact that I don’t even really know you, you don’t seem to be suffering from any kind of personality breakdown right now, Becket,” Chuck offered, managing a light smile as well, even though he felt like him saying that didn’t really amount to much. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The coffee had started pouring into the pot and Chuck turned back to it when he thought it was ready, reaching up to pull two mugs from the overhead cupboards, putting them on the counter and then pouring in some coffee, reaching over to place one of the mugs in front of Raleigh. 

He was about to point out where they kept the sugar and milk when the front door was pushed open and Chuck couldn’t help but roll his eyes as Yancy Becket walked in, seemingly oblivious to the two bodies in the kitchen until he looked up from putting away his suitcase, one of his eyebrows shooting up.

“Oh I’m sorry, is this a private party? Should I leave you two to it?,” Yancy asked, waving his arms around to indicate the two of them and really, Chuck hadn’t thought much of the fact that he and Raleigh were both shirtless in the kitchen until Yancy made that comment. Not that he thought too much of it after the comment was made, but he supposed he could understand why it was a little odd to walk in on.

“Not at all. You are required to take your shirt off though.”

Chuck smirked, raising an eyebrow at Yancy in return, genuinely curious for a moment to find out if the older Becket would actually do that. 

Yancy opened his mouth to speak again, but Raleigh cut him off.

“C’mon Yance, don’t be a buzzkill. Besides, you need to give me your razor.”

Apparently the beard really bothered Raleigh and he really wanted to get rid of it. Chuck supposed he could understand that, even though to him, it was mostly just amusing.

“Yeah, just give him the razor so he can bugger off to the bedroom and I can get some sleep,” Chuck conceded, picking up his mug of coffee and he realised how counter productive it was to drink coffee right before trying to get some more sleep, but then he was still convinced he probably wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep anyway. 

“Razor’s in my bag somewhere. Why can’t you use your own anyway?”

“The bureau confiscated it to “avoid temptation” and I never bought another one.”

Yancy shrugged his shoulders. 

“Which room is mine anyway? Then I can unpack and maybe give you my razor…,” he trailed off, glancing from Raleigh to Chuck and back. 

Raleigh shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Princess Aurora over here interrupted before we got to territory lines. You two work it out, I’m gonna get rid of this thing,” he then said, bringing a hand up to tug at his beard before moving over towards Yancy, grabbing his brother’s suitcase and hauling the thing off towards the bedroom, completely oblivious to the two sets of eyes glaring at his retreating back.


	3. Be Prepared

Though Chuck had wanted the whole thing to work out, he hadn’t quite expected things to move as fast as they did. 

That same morning he’d gotten yelled at by Pentecost and his dad and that same afternoon they told him during the briefing that despite the fact that they didn’t exactly approve of the stunt he’d pulled, he did put himself in a useful situation. 

Pentecost begrudgingly admitted that, with the Russians not yet in place, Chuck’s little operation was their best way of gathering intel and though Herc looked ready to kill someone, it seemed Pentecost had convinced his old man as well.

Which meant he was going in. And though he’d wanted this, he couldn’t help but feel a little scared. 

People always made fun of his age, called him a rookie even after three years on the Hong Kong police force, three years of busting his ass and trying to earn some sort of respect, but because of his age people just didn’t take him seriously. 

This was his chance to prove them wrong.

He’d never been part of an undercover operation this elaborate before, hell, he’d never gone undercover before - not unless you counted those few times he’d posed as a buyer to a drug dealer only to then bust the asshole, but Chuck didn’t think anyone counted that. This was different. This was real. 

This was going in with minimal contact with HQ, this was going in with little to no back up, no bugs on him because they would find them; he would have to live in a shitty apartment as part of his cover, on his own. Chuck Hansen would effectively disappear for the duration of this operation and Chuck had known that going in, but it was all becoming real very fast and though he would never admit it out loud, there was a part of him that was scared.

On top of all of that, he felt like ten people were talking to him at once. 

In fact, it was three people, but it was the thought that counted. Tendo was going off about how they’d given him a burner phone, that he’d have to be careful with it; that the one number in it was the one that lead to HQ, but if he called they would answer pretending to be his brother. Or well, the brother of his cover persona. Herc was ranting about all the important things he had to remember about that same persona, something about not telling too many lies, but certainly not telling the truth too often either; finding a balance between the two of them and then from behind Chuck, Yancy interjected every few seconds.

He wasn’t entirely sure why the elder Becket was even in the room, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Tendo.

“Alright, alright, can you just .. stop talking, please? You’re driving me nuts.” Herc snapped his mouth shut, seemingly offended for a few seconds; Yancy merely smiled and Tendo apparently didn’t hear him, because he was now going on about the GPS tracker in his phone and how there would be one in his jacket as well, untraceable and the man only realised something was off when everyone was suddenly staring at him, making him stop mid sentence.

“Basically, there’ll be surveillance at the apartment we set up for you, you’ll have the GPS tracker both in your jacket and your phone, but other than that, you’ll be on your own. Stacker wants you to check in every day, no set time because that might arouse suspicion, but if you don’t check in, we will come looking for you.”

Chuck nodded, tugging at the jacket he’d been given, old and worn and made out of some sort of fake leather and it was actually somewhat comfortable. Which was a good thing too, seeing as he was fully intent on wearing that all the time. 

“Walk me through it once more, son,” Herc then said, stepping in front of Chuck, adjusting his jacket and Chuck had to resist the urge to swat at his father’s hands, instead glaring at him.

“I meet with Han in an hour. He’ll introduce me to the others, put in a good word, then he’s supposed to bugger off again. Hopefully they take me on as a dealer, run me through how they work; if they don’t I’m supposed to turn around and get the hell out of there.” Chuck had gone over the plan a dozen times now, all with Herc present so he wasn’t entirely sure why they were doing it again, but he supposed there was no harm to it.

“And then?”

“Then I try and work my way up. Get you guys as much information as possible --”

“Without them catching you.”

“Yeah, obviously dad.”

He rolled his eyes and really, in a way he supposed it was sweet, because this was Herc Hansen showing concern, but sometimes Chuck wished he could say that, that he could use his words and come out and say that he was worried instead of his usual method of grilling Chuck on what was going to happen and making sure he remembered all the details. 

“Time to go Hansen.”

Chuck hadn’t seen Raleigh walking in, turning so he could face the man, now all clean shaven - he’d even gotten a haircut before the briefing - and he nodded then, sighing.

“Ready when you are, Becket.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If Chuck had to describe the meeting with the Otachi family with one word, it would have to be anticlimactic.

They’d looked him over, petted him down, asked for his phone, threw a bunch of questions his way, but at the end of the day Chuck didn’t think these people expected any cops to be trying to infiltrate their organisation this way. He was cleared, then they told him to go home and await their phone call.

So he did. 

The apartment they’d set up for him was small and bordering on gross; he was fairly certain no one had cleaned the place in a long time and he couldn’t help but heave a heavy sigh after moving inside. 

It was a world of difference between this place and the apartment he shared with his dad and he was already longing for the latter. He was in this for the long haul though, which meant getting used to what he was given and making the best of it. So he moved through the small apartment, checked the water and the gas, made sure everything worked and then he started unpacking the weekend bag he’d brought with him, throwing the clothes into the drawers of the cabinet he found in the bedroom.

He’d put the phone out on the kitchen table, turned up the volume so he could hear it go off and - with a lack of anything better to do - he’d simply started cleaning the place up. If he was going to have to live here, he figured he might as well make it look at least half decent. He didn’t usually clean at home, but if he left things unattended long enough Herc would usually take care of it for him. Sadly, he couldn’t employ that tactic here.

About halfway through scrubbing out the fridge, the phone rang and he straightened up, reaching for it, checking the caller ID before answering. 

“Morris.”

Finn Morris was the name of his cover, Finn Morris was who Chuck Hansen was now that he was undercover and he’d gone as far as to practice answering his phone like that. If anything, Chuck was thorough. 

The voice on the other line was unfamiliar, a heavy accent making some of the words hard to make out; but Chuck had lived in this city for the last five years of his life and he’d gotten good at deciphering the accent. 

The message was short and clear; he was supposed to be at the docks in two hours, where he’d get handed his first shipment of drugs, which he was then to distribute in a not yet determined neighborhood. If all of that went well, they’d consider working with him in the future. 

Seemed fair enough to him. 

The man on the other end of the line hung up then and Chuck instantly dialled the one number that was in his phone.

“What’s cookin’?,” came a familiar voice, but it wasn’t Tendo and that had Chuck frowning.

“The hell you doin’ answering phones?,” he couldn’t help but ask and he was met with a lazy chuckle and he tried Chuck could easily picture Raleigh Becket lounging in one of the office chairs. His feet were probably up on some desk or another. The image was crystal clear in Chuck’s mind. 

“Tendo’s walking your dog. Asked me to man the phones for a bit,” Raleigh explained and there was a bit of a rustling noise on the other hand, Raleigh clearing his throat before he spoke again. “You okay, kid? How’d the meet go?”

“I’m not a kid, Becket.”

“Whatever Hansen, just answer the question.”

“Meet was uneventful at best. They just contacted me, said to pick up a shipment of drugs at the docks and distribute it; if that goes well they might contact me again.”

“Sounds like it went well then.”

“Seems like it.”

There was a slight pause, Chuck wasn’t sure what to say and Raleigh’s silence indicated he felt the same way, but there really wasn’t a whole lot else to discuss anyway. He’d reported on what had happened, that was that. That was what the call was for. 

“How’s the apartment?,” came Raleigh’s voice after the silence lingered for a little while longer and Chuck shrugged his shoulders before he realised Becket couldn’t quite see him.

“It’s a dump. But I’ll make it work.”

“Good.”

“Look, I should go. Docks are a little way off and with traffic it might take me a while to get there..”

“Yeah.” A beat. “Be careful out there.”

“No need to worry about me Becket.”

“Who said anything about worrying?”


	4. Houston, We Have A Problem

Chuck wished someone would’ve told him how dull undercover work really was. 

It wouldn’t be that much of a big deal if he could go out and live his life outside of the undercover work, but he couldn’t very well do that because of the risk of blowing his cover, which meant that he had to live the life that Finn Morris would lead. And well, Finn Morris was a bit of a total drag. 

The first shipment they’d given him had been distributed quickly, Chuck having arrested and talked to enough drug dealers to know how that world worked and there was a part of him that felt bad about distributing this drug, but he knew he couldn’t very well object to it as long as he was still undercover. Dealing this drug was how he was supposed to get closer to the Otachi family and so far, it was working rather well.

They were making progress, but it was slow progress. After the first assignment, they’d called him up a few times, nothing too serious, no batches that were really big - certainly nothing to write home about, or inform HQ about in Chuck’s case - but after a while they’d started trusting him with bigger batches, until eventually he’d gotten invited early to the docks, been allowed to help sort through some of the drugs.

Slowly but surely, they were letting him in on bigger parts of their operation and though Chuck was still bored out of his mind for the bigger part of his days, at least he was making progress. 

He kept in contact with HQ, calling in once a day as promised and they’d told him the Russians were making their move over to Hong Kong as well, so that soon enough Chuck wouldn’t be the only undercover cop on this assignment anymore.

They’d been working the Kaiju Blue case from Russia, where the drug was also a major problem, but the PPDC’s intel indicated that the Otachi family was the main distributeur, that the drugs originated from Hong Kong, which meant that if they wanted to shut the whole operation down, they’d have to do it here.

Cut off the head of the snake. 

Chuck had been undercover for about a month when the decision was made to put Raleigh under as well. Chuck couldn’t quite bring him in as any kind of higher level person; he didn’t have the sway for that just yet, so Raleigh was brought in as a small time dealer who wanted in on some of the action. Chuck introduced him, vouched for him and after careful consideration the family let Raleigh in as a dealer.

Chuck had a feeling his dad was the one who’d decided that Raleigh had to be put under as well; he was fairly sure Herc hadn’t liked the idea of his son being out there on his own from the start, but Chuck found that he didn’t mind so much. 

It was kind of nice to feel a little less like the only traitor in the pack. 

Not that he saw that much of Raleigh. They’d pulled Chuck off the streets, letting him handle some of the bigger shipments from the docks, which meant Chuck really only got to see Raleigh when the other male got to the docks as well to pick up his batch of drugs, but it was better than nothing. 

It was amazing to Chuck, how quickly a cover became a routine. It was getting easier and easier to think like Finn Morris, easier and easier to keep track of the lies he told and the truths he told, easier to keep them separated in his mind. There was a part of him that was almost afraid of how easy it was becoming; how smoothly the whole climbing the ladder thing was going.

That part was silenced when he got called into the head office one day.

“We think we might be dealing with a mole.”

Jun Otachi was the oldest of the Otachi family and the leader of the entire operation. Seeing him in the office alone made warning bells go off in Chuck’s mind, though he tried not to let that on. Nor was he trying to let on just how much the mere thought of them being on to him was freaking him out. 

Instead he took a breath, then raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?,” he asked casually, leaning against the doorway, glancing from the oldest Otachi brother to the youngest, Jie, the one who Chuck dealt with the most. Not quite as ruthless and scary as his brother, Jie was almost naive, but he was aware that people saw him like that and made a point to prove them wrong a lot. Which was exactly what made him just as dangerous as his brother.

“You know who it is?”

Though still a little unsettled by it all, Chuck couldn’t help but think that the fact that they were telling him this, might just mean that they didn’t think it was him. He hoped that was what they meant anyway. 

“New guy.”

Jun shrugged his shoulders; he didn’t seem altogether impressed by the thought that there was a mole in his organisation. Chuck mentally went over all the people they’d recently hired, the ones he was aware of anyway and he swallowed then, realising that Raleigh was one of the newest employees, if not the newest altogether.

“Why him?”

“Police has been raiding some of the places we sell the drugs at. Lot of the places are in his district,” Jie explained and Chuck nodded. That made sense. He knew that the PPDC had gotten slapped on the wrist lately, by whoever outranked Pentecost; something about this operation being expensive and there not being a lot of results yet and Chuck had assumed they would act. 

Considering the fact that they only places of distribution the PPDC was 100% sure of were the ones that Raleigh was dealing to, it made sense that they cracked down on that district. It also explained why they thought Raleigh was the mole.

Chuck cursed under his breath. 

This wasn’t good.

Tendo had told him the other day over the phone that apparently Mako had uncovered the local police were running an operation of their own, including an undercover informant and that she thought she’d overheard her boss talking about something having gone wrong. That information alone put the whole operation at risk, but Chuck hadn’t heard anything from his end until right now.

How exactly they’d jumped to the conclusion that it was Raleigh; aside from the whole fact that it was his district where the police raids were happening, but Chuck couldn’t help but wonder if whoever the information of the HKPD was, was pointing the finger in Raleigh’s direction on purpose. Maybe they thought he was just some low level drug dealer who didn’t matter in the long run, maybe they thought he was an easy scapegoat, but Chuck wasn’t about to just let the Otachi family hurt Raleigh.

Not in a million years.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’d hoped that maybe he’d get the time to convince the brothers that it wasn’t Raleigh, he’d hoped for the time to maybe even uncover who the HKPD informant was, maybe even hang them out to dry, because he’d rather they get caught than Raleigh get caught. 

But tonight was when Raleigh always came to pick up his shipment and the minute the older male stepped into the warehouse they used at the docks, Chuck knew things would be getting out of hand. 

His palms were sweaty, even though he was trying very hard to remain calm about this whole situation, but the look on Jun’s face told Chuck more than enough. He was out for blood; no matter how much the man seemed to think a mole wasn’t a threat, he didn’t seem to like the thought of someone attempting to undermine his operation much either.

He’d already pulled out his gun before Raleigh even walked inside.

Jun called out, saying something, what, Chuck wasn’t even sure, but then everyone was pulling out their guns and Chuck decided to follow suit, knowing that even if this got out of hand, even if things went horribly south, he’d have to at least try to maintain his cover.

He had to do something. Do something to stop things from going as horribly south like it looked they were going.

Taking a deep breath, he mentally cursed himself, then he called out.

“Stop!”

Everyone had been speaking amongst themselves, hushed words and angry tones across the room, but when Chuck called out they all fell silent, gazes turned towards him. This was it. This was his chance. His one chance to try and fix this situation.

“I brought him in. He’s my responsibility. I’ll take care of it.”

He kept his gaze fixed upon Jun as he spoke, meeting the man’s cold, hard stare, his own gaze unwavering and Chuck pointedly kept his gun fixed upon Raleigh, needing them to think he meant business.

“How do we know you’re really gonna kill him?,”Jie asked, his own gun aimed at Raleigh still and he raised an eyebrow at Chuck before shooting his brother a look, seemingly not really trusting Chuck to actually go through on this. Mentally cursing himself, Chuck help Jun’s gaze for a moment longer.

Then he turned his gaze back to Raleigh and pulled the trigger.


	5. Damage Control

Chuck had never been more grateful for being a good shot. 

He’d aimed at Raleigh’s shoulder, managed to hit him right where he wanted to and had cut off Raleigh’s blabbering, his confused mutterings about how he was innocent and how it wasn’t his fault coming to an abrupt end as he cursed instead and dropped to one of his knees. 

His heart was racing in his chest and there was a large part of him that was panicking, his mind working overtime to try and figure this situation out. He’d needed to do something to convince the others that he would take care of this, properly, the way they wanted him to take care of it, and he was convinced that simply punching Raleigh in the fae wouldn’t have cut it, but this? 

He’d just shot Raleigh. He’d shot the man who was supposed to be his partner on this undercover mission and though he was at least somewhat aware of the fact that Raleigh at least wasn’t dead yet, Chuck already realised they weren’t quite there yet.

“I’ll finish the job,” Chuck managed, finding his voice somehow, lowering his gun as he made his way over to Raleigh, stepping up close, grabbing him by the shoulder, the one he’d just shot him in, despite not wanting to hurt Raleigh. It was a little bit too late for that now though. 

“Outside though. Wouldn’t wanna ruin your precious carpet,” he then added, throwing in a light smirk, because it was a bit of a running joke, how fond Jun was of his goddamned carpet, and Chuck wasn’t even sure how he was still remembered any of that, how he was using any of that to his advantage, but it seemed part of him was simply on auto pilot and auto pilot was saving both their asses right now. 

Jun nodded and Chuck hauled Raleigh up, dragging him along, kicking the door open that headed into the main hall in the warehouse, pace quick as he pushed Raleigh ahead of him, gun aimed at the other man’s back, though Chuck had put the safety back on. 

“Fuck.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Chuck couldn’t help but finally curse out loud, closing his eyes for a moment as he kept his gun trained on Raleigh, fully aware of the lone camera out here that the others were undoubtedly using to keep an eye on what he was doing. He knew the PPDC had access to the feeds as well, also to the feeds of the cameras inside, which meant that right now, they were probably borderline freaking out.

Chuck doubted they were panicking as much as he was though. How he was still even managing to hold up his gun was beyond him. 

“Let me guess, you wanna know what I told ‘em?”

Raleigh’s voice brought him back to the present, away from the feeling of panic that was threatening to overtake him and the tremble in the other man’s voice didn’t go by unnoticed.

“Fuck,” Chuck cursed again, running a hand through his hair as his mind worked overtime to try and think of a way out. He needed the Otachi brothers to think that he killed Raleigh, but obviously he couldn’t actually do that. Taking a deep breath, he glanced around before focusing back on Raleigh.

“I’m gonna shoot again. You drop down, play dead. Then I’ll get you outta here.”

He waited til Raleigh nodded, indicating that he’d heard, that he understood and then he brought the gun back up, took off the safety and fired after taking aim. 

Raleigh dropped down as if on cue and Chuck rushed forward, panic rising right back up as he was afraid he might’ve actually hit the other man, but it turned out he’d missed, like he’d intended to do. 

He pretended to check the other man’s pulse, turning to glance up at the camera before focusing back on Raleigh, putting his gun away and moving around the ‘body’. Grabbing him by his good arm, he started dragging the dead weight over to his car, thankful that he was parked closeby. He knew the car was still in range of the camera though, so instead of pulling Raleigh onto the backseat, he popped the trunk, grunting lightly with the effort it took to haul Raleigh into it. 

Making sure no limbs were sticking out - it would be just his luck to slam the trunk shut again only to find Raleigh’s fingers were caught between it - he then shut the trunk again, rushing to move around the car, getting in and starting up the engine. 

He had to get out of here. Fast too, if he wanted to make sure Raleigh didn’t bleed out in the trunk of his car.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Half a dozen speeding tickets and two heart attacks later, Chuck’s car came to a screeching halt right outside a shifty looking building on the outskirts of Hong Kong.

Shutting down the engine, Chuck rushed out of the car, popping the trunk and helping Raleigh back up, relief washing over him when he found the other man was at least still breathing.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I eh … fuck,” he stammered, not even sure what to say as he took in the state Raleigh was in, running a hand through his hair before reaching out again, helping Raleigh out of the trunk. “I eh .. there’s a safe house, up there. Should be a med kit, I think, I can try and help, I just ..,” he trailed off, keeping his hands on Raleigh as the other male pushed himself up a little. 

“Can you walk?”

“Yeah, I’ll manage,” Raleigh mumbled, leaning against Chuck as he guided them both towards the entrance of the safe house, making quick work of the lock before helping Raleigh inside, settling him on one of the chairs in the living room before bounding off in search of the med kit. 

He made his way back into the living room with it just as Raleigh asked if he’d found it already, holding the kit up as he made his way over to the chair the other man was sitting in, crouching down before it, leaning on one of his knees. 

“Found it,” he said, rummaging through the med kit already to see what kind of useful things were in there. There were a few painkillers, as well as a bunch of gauze, a stitching kit, some alcohol wipes to clean wounds with and a bunch of other things that Chuck thought were less important right now. 

“D’you need me to..,” he trailed off, glancing from the bullet wound in his shoulder up to Raleigh’s eyes, not sure what the other man wanted him to do. Chuck had received basic medical training during the police academy, nothing too fancy, nothing beyond the basics, but there was no one else around and that bullet wasn’t going to do anyone any good if it stayed in Raleigh’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I do. You’re gonna need to get rid of the shirt,” Raleigh stated, and Chuck was grateful for how lucid the man still was, how he seemed to be in pain, but not quite nearing the passing out stage just yet and really, Chuck wouldn’t have known what to do if he’d found him passed out in the trunk. He was already panicking even without Raleigh passing out.

“Okay.”

Raleigh shifted, reaching down to grab a penknife from where he kept one in his boots and he flipped it open, handed it to Chuck who set to work instantly, making quick work of cutting open the other man’s shirt. Had these been any other circumstances Chuck might’ve taken the time to admire the view, to trace his fingers along the numerous scars adorning Raleigh’s chest, but the circumstances weren’t different and Chuck had more important things to focus on.

Like getting this goddamned bullet out of Raleigh’s shoulder.

After getting rid of the shirt, Chuck dug through the med kit again, grabbing for the painkillers he’d found, holding them out for Raleigh to take. “You should take some of those. They won’t nearly be strong enough, but at least it’s something,” he offered, then turned his focus back on the bullet wound.

Basic medical training didn’t really cover removing bullets from bullet wounds, but that didn’t mean Chuck couldn’t try. He’d grabbed one of the alcohol wipes, moving his hand up to dab it at the wound, but Raleigh reached out with his good hand, grabbing a light hold of Chuck’s wrist and he looked up at the older man then, confused. 

“Bullet’s still in there,” Raleigh pointed out, and Chuck nodded, light frown on his face. “I .. yeah, no, I know. I just .. I wanted to clean it before taking the bullet out,” he explained, not sure if that was the right order in which to do things, but he was still running on his auto pilot and he wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he could keep this up. 

“It’s probably easier if you play hook-a-duck here,” Raleigh then said, voice calm and Chuck was grateful for how calm the other man was, how much of a rock Raleigh still managed to be even after he got shot. Even after Chuck shot him. 

Chuck simply nodded at the comment, changing his grip on the pen knife as he leant closer, using his free hand to try and hold the wound open, glancing up at Raleigh then. ‘’Okay?,” he asked, not wanting to proceed without knowing for sure Raleigh was ready for this, but once Raleigh nodded Chuck wasted no time in pushing the knife in, attempting to wedge it underneath the bullet so he could pop it out. 

Which sounded a lot easier than it really was and though it only took Chuck about twenty seconds tops to get the bullet out eventually, he was sure it felt like a lot longer for Raleigh. He felt the other man flinch under his touch, Raleigh’s jaw tight as he winced and Chuck didn’t envy him right now.

He still felt horrible about having shot Raleigh in the first place, but at least he’d managed to get the bullet out now. That was a start as far as making it up to the other man went, right? 

“Nice job, kid,” Raleigh murmered as Chuck moved to clean out the wound with the alcohol wipes, pressing a clean gauze against it then and he had to focus on what he was doing, not letting himself meet Raleigh’s gaze.

“Nice job what, shooting you?,” Chuck couldn’t help but ask, a somewhat bitter tone to his voice and honestly, normally Chuck would be the first to tell everyone that he’d done the right thing, Chuck would be the one screaming off the rooftops about how his quick thinking had saved Raleigh’s life and there was a part of him that knew this, a part of him that was aware of this, but there was a larger part and that was still shocked by what had happened, still confused and a little bit scared and overtaken by panic. 

He’d still shot his partner. He’d still done that. He’d still landed the both of them in a situation where that was the best possible outcome and honestly, he felt sick. 

“Hey, you did the right thing, it’s a clean wound,” Raleigh argued, because when did Raleigh not argue with what Chuck was saying. He wasn’t in the mood for it right now. 

“You need me to stitch you up or …?”

He didn’t know if Raleigh would be alright for a little while like this, didn’t know if the other man would prefer getting a professional to do the stitching up. Apparently though, Raleigh didn’t.

“Well either you need to stitch it or cauterize it, and I know which one I’d prefer..,” Raleigh trailed off, shooting Chuck a look and he simply nodded, grabbing the needle and thread from the med kit, making sure the wound really was clean before glancing up at Raleigh.

“Right. Okay.”

He hesitated briefly, then simply set to work on stitching up the wound, his hands steady as he stuck the needle through Raleigh’s skin, then across the wound and back in, turning it into a neat pattern and the mere fact that he could still do this, that he could even hold a needle and thread without his hands shaking right now, he wasn’t sure why that was. 

There was this feeling that was rising within his chest and it wasn’t panic, at least it wasn’t just panic and Chuck didn’t know what to do. His mind was still working overtime, running through all the different scenarios of what might’ve happened, trying to decide if what he’d done really had been the right choice and he just .. he didn’t know how to stop.

“Chuck, look at me.”

He’d finished, pulling the last stitch through, cutting off the thread and Raleigh’s voice caught him a little off guard. He glanced up, not quite meeting Raleigh’s gaze though and for some reason it seemed the other male knew something was up, knew something was off, but Chuck didn’t even know what it was, let alone how to explain it to someone else.

“This isn’t your fault. I went in there intending to get caught, something was always going to happen,” Raleigh continued, and Chuck still refused to meet his gaze, pointedly look away as he sat back a little, sighing.

“I still shot you,” he argued, because whether or not that was his fault wasn’t something that was even debatable, it was something that had happened; he’d been the one to pull that trigger, he put that bullet in Raleigh’s shoulder and it could’ve been worse, so much worse, but what did happen was pretty bad as well. 

“Yeah, and the rest of them would’ve killed me.”

Chuck couldn’t even make himself care about how right Raleigh probably was. That feeling rising in his chest, Chuck still didn’t know what it was, but it was consuming him, it was filling him up and it wasn’t pleasant at all. It wouldn’t go away, no matter what he told himself.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he muttered, voice quiet and small and he felt so utterly lost in that moment, still unable to meet Raleigh’s eyes because he felt guilty. He felt guilty about what had happened, about not having been able to find a better solution for it all because there was always a solution that was better than shooting your partner. 

He was mad too, mad that this had happened to him on his first undercover mission, that things had gone wrong under his watch and that it was getting to him so much. Maybe he didn’t show it, maybe his hands were still steady and he’d still managed to get the bullet out, stitch Raleigh up, but he felt like he was breaking on the inside.

And Chuck Hansen didn’t break. Chuck Hansen didn’t show weakness, Chuck Hansen didn’t let something like this get to him, --

“Chuck.”

Raleigh said his name again and Chuck sighed, ready to get up, push himself away from Raleigh, maybe find his phone and call HQ because they were bound to be curious about what had happened, but then Raleigh’s hand was under his chin, turning his head and Chuck was forced to look up, any thoughts of getting up and moving away easily dismissed as Raleigh leant closer. 

His mind was still working overtime, chest tight with a whole array of emotions as he finally let his gaze meet Raleigh’s. It was only for the briefest of moments, because seconds later Raleigh closed his eyes, leant even closer and then he pressed his lips to Chuck’s.

Chuck froze, his train of thoughts coming to an abrupt halt at the unexpected feeling and it took him a few seconds to even process what was happening, to register the feeling of Raleigh’s lips moving against his but then his brain kicked back in and he surged forward, hands grasping at what was left of Raleigh’s shirt as he finally returned the kiss.

Part of him felt like he should’ve seen it coming, like this shouldn’t have caught him by surprise so much, but for the most part he couldn’t bring himself to care, because it didn’t matter.

He needed this. He’d needed his mind to stop working overtime, he’d needed not to doubt himself, not to go over what had happened, not blame himself, all of it, he’d needed all of it to just stop and maybe this wasn’t the most conventional way, maybe it wasn’t what he’d expected, but even if it wasn’t, it still worked. 

Raleigh pressed closer, deepening the kiss and Chuck parted his lips, one of his hands moving around to the back of Raleigh’s neck to keep him closer as the kiss turned almost desperate. 

“Shit.”

For some reason, Raleigh broke the kiss, leaning back and Chuck had to bite back a whine, inhaling sharply, fingers still grasping at the remnants of Raleigh’s shirt and it was only after Raleigh reached into hit pocket, pulling out his phone, that Chuck realised it had been ringing. Raleigh held up his phone, the screen showing the name ‘Yancy’ flashing on the screen and Chuck sighed, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as he sat back on the floor, running a hand through his hair. 

“Call him back.”

“What?”

Raleigh looked from his phone down at Chuck, one of his eyebrows raised and Chuck waved his hand around, sighing.

“Call him back. Or call HQ. They probably saw the feeds of the security cam and they might be a little worried about whether or not I killed you.”

“Oh. Right.”


	6. Calling Home

“Hey.”

It was Raleigh who answered when Chuck called in a few days later, Raleigh instead of Tendo and Chuck couldn’t help but smile lightly at that. He’d made sure to check in every day, bothered Tendo numerous times about how Raleigh was doing, but apparently he’d gotten the bullet out and though the stitch job had been re-done, Raleigh was going to be fine. 

Chuck had never been so relieved in his life. 

Despite his bravado and his big mouth, Chuck did actually realise that he was new at this. He’d worked the Hong Kong Police Force for three years now, joining right after high school, getting in because of some strings his father pulled because he’d been young, but he’d been qualified anyway.

Chuck Hansen was a good cop, but he was used to working the streets and though that meant he’d seen plenty out there, it also meant that undercover job was something new for him.

Sure, he’d walked up to drug dealers in the past, pretended to be an addict looking to score, but those weren’t undercover jobs, not like the one he was working now.

He was in deep and he’d been digging himself in deeper all this time and that was the point, but it also put him in a situation that grew exponentially more dangerous every day that he stayed put. 

Chuck was convinced he’d won over two of the brothers, but it was the oldest he still worried about. Jun was a hard man to read and whether or not he trusted Chuck completely .. well. Chuck wouldn’t wager a bet on that. 

“Hey,” he finally answered, dismissing his thoughts with a light shake of his head. He always called from the apartment these days; he’d called in from work one day and had to change the tone of the conversation within minutes when one of the Otachi brothers had walked in on him. He’d pretended to be talking to his mum. For some reason that had been the easy excuse, despite the fact that his mother had been dead for years and the Otachi brothers had been the ones responsible. 

“How’re you holding up in there?,” Raleigh asked, voice quiet and Chuck frowned when he realised there wasn’t any of the usual chatter that was there whenever Tendo called. 

“Aren’t you calling from HQ?”

“I am, but I stepped outside.”

“Why?”

Chuck heard the slight ruffling of clothes, assumed that Raleigh shrugged his shoulders. 

“Just .. wanted to check in on you personally. Without the rest of the ops listening in,” Raleigh answered after a brief pause.

Chuck smiled.

“You worried about me, Becket?,” he asked, and despite the smile there was a slight bite to his tone. He knew he was in a dangerous situation, he knew that he’d had a lot to process these last couple of days, but that didn’t stop him from hating it when people worried too much about him.

His dad was too far gone to ever teach himself how to stop, but Raleigh … well, maybe Chuck could convince the other man that he could take care of himself before Raleigh started to worry his ass off too much. 

It was a good ass after all, worrying it off would be a shame. 

“I’m just … I know you’ve been calling in, I know things are okay. I just wanted to hear for myself. From you.”

A beat.

“You were freaking out the other day, I just ..”

“I’m fine, Becket.”

“I know that’s what you keep saying. And I believe you, I do, but I also know that something like that, having to shoot someone you work with, it’s not exactly easy.”

Chuck stayed quiet for a moment, then heaved a heavy sighed, slumping down on the couch in his apartment. 

“I just needed to get my head back in the game,” he stated quietly, chewing lightly on his bottom lip and he was suddenly grateful that this conversation wasn’t taking place with the rest of HQ listening in. Grateful as well, that Raleigh had bothered to call and check in on him like this, even if, when asked, Chuck would pretend to resent the fact. 

He didn’t need someone looking after him.

Then again, maybe sometimes he did. 

“I know. You just gotta remember that you did the right thing. You saved me from getting killed and managed to maintain your cover, that’s a goddamned good job, kid.”

Chuck smiled, not even affronted by Raleigh calling him kid that time. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, because it was good to hear Raleigh say it. He’d been reminding himself of that a lot these past few days, telling himself over and over again that he’d done good and that he shouldn’t overthink any of this, but it was easier said than done, convincing yourself of something. Hearing someone else say it; that always helped a lot more. 

“How’s your shoulder?,” Chuck asked after a brief pause, clearing his throat and maybe he didn’t want to linger on the subject for too long, maybe he didn’t want Raleigh to drag that whole thing out because admitting that he needed someone to say that to him, that wasn’t going to happen, so Chuck needed something else to focus on.

“I’ll be fine,” Raleigh answered with a light sigh, and Chuck couldn’t help but grin at the exasperated tone to Raleigh’s voice.

“You get asked that a lot, Becket?”

“Only every single day.”

“Just shows people care about ya, y’know?”

Raleigh sighed at that. 

“Oh, I know. Trust me, I know, but after a while .. it becomes a bit of a nuisance.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Chuck had never gotten shot before. Miraculously so, because it had gotten goddamned close a few times, but he’d somehow managed to stay bullet free all the years he’d worked for HKPD. He was strangely proud of it, especially after having seen Raleigh with all those scars littering his body. Even if it had been an attractive sight, Chuck still kind of liked that he was free of bullet wounds.

Didn’t mean he was free of scars, but well. He was never gonna win that one after that bicycle accident when he was four. 

“I should go. I’ll let everyone know I checked in on you and that things are okay,” Raleigh said, clearing his throat. There was a brief silence and then he spoke again.

“Wait. Did you have anything to report?,” he then asked and Chuck couldn’t help but laugh at that, leaning back against the couch. 

“Aren’t you supposed to ask that _first_ , Becket?,” Chuck couldn’t help but tease, wide smile still on his face as he heard Raleigh grumble at the other end of the line. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m supposed to ask that first, but I didn’t. So sue me.”

“Maybe I will.”

Raleigh sighed.

“So do you?”

“What?”

“Have anything to report.”

“Nah, ‘s quiet on my end. Bringing in the Russians tomorrow though, so I should have more to report then.”

“Oh yeah, right. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah ..”

“Bye, Becket.” A beat. “Thank you for calling.”


	7. When Shit Hits The Fan

“Just let me sign the paperwork, I’ll make sure everything’s taken care off,” Chuck told the delivery men, glancing around briefly to take in his surroundings. He’d been told to handle the shipments out back, to receive them and make sure they were directed to the right cargo holds, leaving the Otachi brothers and the Russians in the hangar to deal with whatever it was they needed to deal with.

He’d brought in the Russians a few days ago, the plan having gone along smoothly and though Chuck still liked to think he could’ve handled things fine on his own, there was something reassuring about the thought of no longer being the only undercover agent on the assignment anymore.

The Russians were good, that was really all that Chuck knew. Apparently they were renowned for their undercover ops; the rumour had it they’d been undercover for ten years straight at some point and that they still maintained that cover. Chuck wasn’t sure if that was the cover they were using now; he supposed it didn’t matter much.

Everything had gone by smoothly and Chuck turned back towards the hangar, making his way into the main hall, frowning when he heard raised voices.

They spoke in Mandarin and Chuck was fluent, but these people were yelling and talking so fast that he had a hard time making sense of it all. 

He approached carefully, perking up a little when he heard the familiar voices of the Russians, then some cursing and by the time Chuck rounded the corner of the crates that were scattered throughout the hangar, tempers seemed to have been lost and Chuck walked into what looked a lot like a Mexican stand off.

Guns had been drawn and the moment Chuck stepped out of the shadows he had several pointed at him and he cursed under his breath, bringing up his hands.

He took in the amount of people, realised only two of the brothers were here, along with the Russians and the other people Chuck recognised as some of the new drug runners. Apparently, even after the ‘fiasco’ with one of the dealers - Raleigh - turning out to be an undercover cop, the Otachi brothers had still wanted, or maybe needed, more drug runners.

So they’d brought a few in, the ones who now stood in front of Chuck with their guns out and Chuck honestly just didn’t understand what the hell was going on.

“Look, I’m sure we can --”

 _Bang_.

In the end, the gunshot was a lot easier to make sense of than the rest of the situation and Chuck stumbled as the sheer impact of the bullet sent him backwards. His hand was already on his gun, but then he tripped over a loose wire on the ground, fell backwards and for a moment his world went black.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was fading in and out of consciousness, somehow having managed to drag himself behind one of the cars inside the hangar, his vision swimming in front of his eyes as his hand clasped his gun, even if he felt too weak to be lifting his arm to fire a shot in the first place.

“-- uck, gotta wake up, c’mon.”

The voice filtered in slowly, as well as the slight jostling at his arm as someone shook him and he gasped, inhaling sharply as his eyes opened and he looked around, alarmed, not sure where he was for a moment. 

“Raleigh…,” Chuck mumbled when the other man’s face came in focus and he reached out almost as if on instinct, fingers grasping at Raleigh’s sweater as he hovered over him. “The hell’re y’doin’ here..”

Raleigh smiled, Chuck attempting to return it but he coughed then, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his side. “Looking after you, princess,” Raleigh then said, and Chuck managed to pull a face at that.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I just got shot,” Chuck grumbled, glaring at the other male because really, what kind of fucking question was that anyway? “Hurts like a bitch too,” he added as an afterthought, trying to shift, hissing as it just made everything hurt more. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, he glanced down at his side, his one hand pressed to the bullet wound to his side, then he looked back up at Raleigh.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Raleigh said almost instantly, reaching for the hand that Chuck still had holding onto his shirt, prying his fingers loose, grabbing a light hold of Chuck’s hand, squeezing it before he let it go, shifting back.

“I shot you and then I got myself shot. Not exactly something to be proud of.”

“ _You’ve got nothing to be sorry for_.”

Chuck frowned as Raleigh sat back a little, reached for the edge of his sweater, pulling it over his head and then his shirt followed and Chuck couldn’t help but smirk lightly.

“If you’re trying to distract me, it’s kinda working,” he commented, trailing off as he coughed, wincing. Raleigh pulled his sweater back on and Chuck resisted the urge to pout, distracted by Raleigh pulling his hand away from the bullet wound, pressing his shirt against the injury and Chuck hissed lightly in pain, biting down hard on his bottom lip then. 

“You’re dad’s worried about you,” Raleigh then said, keeping pressure on the wound with his one hand, his other having found Chuck’s again and it was only after that comment that Chuck even realised Raleigh was still in contact with the rest of the team. 

He managed a light smile, shrugging his shoulders. “m fine. He doesn’t need to worry about me,” Chuck said stubbornly and he didn’t even need to see Raleigh’s face to know that the other man was probably at least mentally scolding him. 

He coughed again, cursing under his breath and he didn’t like how the look on Raleigh’s face changed from annoyance to worry. He didn’t want to be the reason that Raleigh worried. 

“How much longer?,” he asked, figuring that it was safe to assume that Raleigh had called for help, back up, some way for them to get out of here, else the other male would probably be trying to get him out of here instead of keeping him put. 

“Soon. Yancy’s coming with a car, then we’ll get you patched right up again. Good as new.”

Chuck managed a smile, not sure if Raleigh was as sure of that as he was trying to make himself sound, but he appreciated the effort. 

“Can you just ..,” Chuck hesitated, trailing off, averting his gaze and he coughed again, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. “Tell my dad he better take care of Max if … well. Y’know. If things go south,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper as his vision started to blur again. The grip he’d had on Raleigh’s hand was growing weaker and he could practically feel him consciousness slipping through his fingers with every passing second. 

“Fuck it,” was the last thing Chuck heard, before Raleigh was moving around and by the time Raleigh was calling his brother’s name and pulling Chuck up, he was too far gone to really realise what was going on anymore.


End file.
